


Baby, You're So Classic

by SelfDestroya



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe, Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-27
Updated: 2014-09-27
Packaged: 2018-02-19 00:13:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2367110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SelfDestroya/pseuds/SelfDestroya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Seriously you give a guy one issue of Vogue and suddenly he thinks he’s Vivienne Westwood."<br/>Or the one where Gerard wears a lot of plaid skirts and Frank gets sexually frustrated.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby, You're So Classic

**Author's Note:**

> Oh man, this is a huge case of IDEK because I got carried away. I got hung up on the idea of Gerard wearing a plaid skirt and shaving his legs and fuck...you see what I'm saying. So, I decided to work it out of me through Frank and before I knew it, there was a plot (like an actual plot) hanging out on my word docs. So, here you are, enjoy.
> 
> Disclaimer: Never happened, seriously I couldn't find any pictures on Google so if anyone wants to make it happen...

It’s on Friday night when they’d usually be cuddled up under a blanket watching dumb TV and ordering Chinese that Frank starts to notice something’s up. Frank’s in the kitchen making coffee because he really is the best boyfriend in the world and Gerard comes in covered in paint splatters and pieces of loose thread.

“Hey, babe,” Frank says turning to give Gerard a mug. Gerard takes the cup quickly and grunts in response to Frank’s greeting which is totally not out of character for Gerard. He’s a complex dude and Frank gets that, but he isn’t the most eloquent of humans. It’s when he reaches up to the top of the cupboards where they keep the tin of sewing supplies Frank’s mom insisted on giving them when they moved in together because ‘you never know when you might need it’, that he gets weird. Gerard’s top rides up revealing a sliver of pale skin and Frank smoothes his hand across it, stepping behind Gerard to kiss the back of his neck. In Frank’s head, this gesture would translate to lets get naked and fuck on the kitchen counter again, we haven’t done that in a while. Apparently though, Gerard’s not in tune with Frank’s thoughts tonight as he shrugs and grunts some more pulling the tin down and stepping around Frank to grab his coffee. His coffee that Frank made because he’s just that nice. His coffee that he didn’t thank Frank for with his mouth on Frank’s.

Gerard shuffles out the kitchen leaving Frank baffled momentarily before realising this is Gerard and he’s probably busy being distracted by some huge project or something more important than kissing his boyfriend. Frank reminds himself that sometimes things are more important than him. He’s been trying to remind himself of that for nearly three years now because Gerard’s easily distracted and Frank’s aware he’s a bit of an attention whore, Bob’s told him at least twelve times now.

 

The next time he notices it’s Sunday morning and Frank’s still in bed reading some brochure detailing all the botanical gardens in Jersey wondering when he became so domesticated. Gerard wasn’t there this morning when he woke up which was very strange because he didn’t kiss Frank’s nose to get him up to make Gerard coffee. Then again, he’s probably still being distracted by the same thing that stopped him kissing Frank on Friday. Frank’s starting to get annoyed by this mysterious distraction so he decides to tempt Gerard out to some random garden with promises of Starbucks. They’ll probably end up buying another one of those succulent plants Gerard likes so much that Frank always ends up watering because Gerard forgets, even though he only has to remember to do it once a week.

He traipses to Gerard’s studio at the back of the house, glad that Gerard now has a studio because when they’d lived in that one-bed Frank had gotten so sick of fishing paint brushes out from between the cushions in the sofa. He doesn’t bother knocking, just opens the door, eyes still scanning the brochure to the sight of Gerard up to his eyeballs in random pieces of fabric and sewing needles. Frank finally looks up properly to take in the view; the floor is _covered_ in patterns and knitting needles and yarn and lace and _plaid_ fabric.

“Erm,” Frank begins looking at Gerard expectantly. “Hey, babe,” Frank tries again when Gerard refuses to look up from the stitching in his hands, “Whatcha doing?”

Frank waits but gets no response – Gerard’s in his zone as Mikey would say – and tries _again_ “Gerard, how about Starbucks?” Nothing. “I found this brochure about botanical gardens, do you know what the difference is, the leaflet didn’t give a very clear definition? Either way, wanna check it out?” Frank finishes his rambling walking further into the room and tentatively sitting somewhere he’s not likely to be stabbed by stray needles. Gerard finally looks at him then, as if he’s only just noticed that Frank’s been talking to him.

“Sorry, what?” Gerard says and Frank sighs. He wafts the brochure in front of his face.

“And Starbucks?”

Gerard still looks a little confused and moves his lips as if he’s trying work out what 237 divided by 14 is.

“I’m busy,” Gerard says gesturing to the room. Frank rolls his eyes and reaches out to poke Gerard’s pale cheek.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” He asks sceptically

“Er, yeah a little.” Frank knows he’s lying, the fucker is a terrible lying.

“Right, you wanna come out with me for a bit then? You look like you haven’t seen the sun in months.”

“But...” he trails off and seriously, Frank did not think he’d have to coax him this much.

“Come on, Gee. I’m bored and I wanna go look at some plants,” Frank groans leaning forward so his forehead touches Gerard’s shoulder.

“Plants?” Gerard asks confused again. Frank groans again getting up. He grumbles to himself the whole way out the room shutting the door with a little more force than is probably strictly necessary. He’s tired though, and his boyfriend is ignoring him.

 

“My boyfriend is ignoring me,” Frank whines as he pushes his chair back watching the band try and arrange themselves behind the screen.

“Ok guys, whenever you’re ready, just play,” Ray says through the microphone before turning to look at Frank.

“And what did you do this time, Iero?” Bob says through a mouthful of Pringles. Frank turns his chair a little to glare at Bob.

“ _I_ didn’t do anything. He’s just ignoring me. Like, he doesn’t kiss me and he didn’t wanna go to the botanical gardens with me—“

“ _Botanical gardens?_ ” Bob laughs, looking incredulous.

“Wait, we have botanical gardens in Jersey?” Ray says and Bob throws a Pringle at him.

“Yeah, and poor Frankie wanted to go with his boyfriend,” Bob croons and Frank tries very hard to kill him with a look but probably fails because he’s blushing.

“I can’t believe we have botanical gardens in Jersey,” Ray says shaking his head disbelievingly.

“Well we do, and it’s not about the fucking gardens,” Frank snaps.

Bob shakes himself a little and forces his face to look serious, “No, you’re right, it’s not. It’s about how Gerard won’t kiss you?”

“Yes,” Frank says, “And I want him to kiss me.”

“And go to the gardens with you,” Ray adds turning to look at Bob with a grin on his face. Frank flips them both off and goes back to the so-called band they’re currently trying to record.

 

When Frank gets home that night, he half expects Gerard to have sewn his finger to his jeans or something like that. He wonders hesitantly if Gerard’s planning on talking to him and making up for the weekend of silence. Instead, he almost chokes on his tongue when he find Gerard in the kitchen _cooking dinner_ wearing an ’Iron Maiden’ T-shirt with a plaid skirt on. A motherfucking _plaid skirt_. The skirt is bright red with green and blue lines across it and it comes down past half of his thighs. It’s pleated, frilling out from underneath the shirt where Frank can imagine it biting into his soft waist leaving the familiar red marks Frank spends so much of his life tracing with his tongue.

Frank forgets how to speak. He can feel the blush creeping up his neck, warming his cheeks and suddenly all he wants in life is to slide his hand under that skirt and _touch_. He walks over to Gerard staring directly at his ass and clears his throat. Gerard turns and smiles at him leaning forward to peck him on his cheek.

“How was your day?” He asks sweetly and Frank smiles before pulling Gerard in and kissing him full on the lips. He slides his hand down Gerard’s back, across the red material and finally smoothes his palm across the exposed skin. His breath hitches in his throat when he realises Gerard’s shaved his legs.

Gerard pulls back suddenly, as if Frank’s hand is freezing cold, returning to whatever it was he was cooking and leaving Frank feeling incredibly flustered.

“Um?”

“Dinner will be ready in 5, I’ve got some stuff to finish in my studio so that’s where I’ll be,” Gerard says curtly, like he’s pissed off though Frank cannot for the life of him think what would have pissed him off. Maybe he’s just _distracted_ , he thinks bitterly before walking off in a huff to get changed. Fucking Gerard being all distracted all the time.

 

Gerard’s been angry with him before, like that time Frank spilt coffee on one of his early editions of ‘Doom Patrol’ and Gerard didn’t speak to him for days or even when Frank forgot about their anniversary and Gerard didn’t, but he’s never ever started wearing cute pleated skirts and shaving his legs as a result of it.

So Frank decides to form a plan. He thinks it’s one of his best ideas because his plans are _always_ successful despite what Ray or Bob or Mikey or Gerard or his mom or- you get the picture – say. He doesn’t really want to ask Ray or Bob for help because they’d laugh at him – they were still laughing about the goddamned botanical gardens – so he decides he’ll just do some preliminary research. After all, this is a serious matter he’s dealing with, he hasn’t had sex in over a week now which is just plain bad for his health and he really does want to test out that new coffee table they got two weeks ago to see if it’ll support them. He’s going to investigate.

 

After Monday night, the week only goes down hill. On Tuesday, Frank came home to find Gerard in a pink plaid skirt with grey bars running diagonally across it. Then green on Wednesday and blue on Thursday. Frank’s half-excited to find out what colour Gerard will have chosen and half-pissed off because he doesn’t remember being this sexually frustrated in his life. Not the part of his life when he was in a relationship at least because there was high school. Every night, Gerard eats in his studio and doesn’t come out till after Frank’s fallen asleep, that’s if he’s even coming out of his damn room which Frank wouldn’t know, because he falls asleep alone. He wishes he knew what he’d done to make Gerard angry, though sometimes he thinks Gerard might not even be angry just _distracted_. By this point, Frank’s not even thinking about the sex (well, maybe a little) he just wants to talk to his boyfriend, which he can’t do because he’s walking around in plaid skirts pretending Frank isn’t there.

This idea is pushed rudely from his head when he walks in to find a note in place of his boyfriend. Gerard is apparently having dinner with Mikey and his girlfriend and not with Frank.

Frank’s actually starting to get really freaked out because if this is Gerard’s way of telling Frank the past three years are out the window Frank’s going to ball his fucking eyes out. The last thing he wants is to break up over something he didn’t even know happened. He starts pacing round the kitchen panicking that Gerard is trying to send him a message that he’s finally gotten bored of Frank.

Somewhere along the line after rambling round the house like Mrs Havisham for ten minutes, Frank finds himself outside Gerard’s studio that’s kept him so busy for the past week. He opens the door peeking in to make sure there are no dead bodies on the table (just because it hasn’t happened yet, doesn’t mean it never will) and sees nothing but a mess of sewing equipment. Frank walks in scanning the room for any signs of break up. There is literally nothing but fabric. Except...on the wall directly opposite the door are several canvases with outfit designs on them. Underneath them is a half-manikin with yet another fucking plaid skirt on it.

He seriously cannot work it out. Is Gerard leaving him to pursue a career in fashion? He is, he’s actually going to leave Frank for clothes.

 

“Ray! Open the fucking door!” Frank yells as angry tears prick his eyes, “Jesus fucking Christ Ray, I swear to god—oh hey, Christa,” Frank breaks off mid-sentence as the door swings open to reveal a rather frightened looking not Ray, but his wife instead.

“Hey, Frank. Are you trying to break our door down? What’s the matter, are you crying?” She says looking confused and pitying at the same time.

“My boyfriend’s leaving me,” he sobs and then Ray comes to the door looking just as perturbed as Christa.

“Frank? What?” Ray asks ushering everyone inside. Frank flops on the sofa, head in his hands as the tears burst out uncontrollably. He should be embarrassed but Gerard’s breaking up with him so it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t care anymore.

“He’s...Gerard’s gonna...gonna bre- br- oh fuck,” he stutters as Christa pats his back affectionately.

“Calm down, dude, I don’t know what you’re trying to say,” Ray says calmly though he doesn’t look very calm.

“Gerard’s fucking breaking up with me. He’s gonna leave me for fucking skirts and he won’t talk to me and maybe he’s fucking someone else. Oh brilliant, of course, that’s it -- he’s fucking someone else!” He cries throwing his hands in the air, “He isn’t fucking me anymore so that must be it!”

“Woah, woah, woah, back up. You guys broke up?” Christa says looking shocked. Frank looks up at her wiping his eyes and blushing a little. He must look a mess.

“Well, not officially yet,” he says slowly.

“So, you’re together still?” Ray clarifies.

“Technically,” he mutters looking down at his fingers and sniffling a little.

“So you nearly broke our door down for nothing?” Ray says, like he should be pissed but is too busy pitying Frank he can’t quite manage it.

“Not nothing,” Frank says looking back up, “Gerard’s gonna leave me.”

“Right, like that time he was gonna leave you when you got orange juice on one of his storyboards or that time you put all the DVDs in their wrong cases to annoy him and it back fired?” Ray asks looking at Frank like he’s an idiot, which in all fairness he probably is right now.

“No...”

“Go home, Frank. Before Gerard tries to break Mikey’s door down because he thinks you’re leaving him,” Ray sighs.

“You think he’ll think that?” Frank rubs his eyes and blinks at Christa because Ray is giving him this look. The look that makes Frank feel like an idiot, obviously, but the one that says you _really_ are an idiot. More of an idiot than normal. Because maybe if he actually thinks about it, Gerard wouldn’t leave him like that.

“You’re so dumb, Frankie,” Christa says before kissing the top of his head and getting up to make coffee or something. Frank doesn’t really stay to find out.

 

By the time Frank makes it back home, Gerard’s car is in the drive and there are lights on inside and shrill voices blaring out. Frank can’t make out what’s being said though.

He opens the door tentatively to see Mikey with his arm awkwardly around Gerard in as close to a hug as Mikey can get.

“Hi,” Frank says closing the door to announce his arrival.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Mikey snaps giving him a look which Frank has learnt means ‘I’m not happy with you’.

“Erm, Ray’s...”

“Why?”

“I thought,” Frank hesitates long enough for Mikey to get it, because Mikey can read minds or some shit like that, Frank’s yet to understand that one. He sighs, shaking his head and backs away from Gerard who looks up and Frank sees his tear stained face and wants to cry.

“You guys tire the fuck out of me. Please just sort this out but remember I want none of the gory details. I’m going now, bye Gee,” Mikey says grabbing his coat off the hooks near the door and giving Frank a look which Frank interprets to mean ‘make my brother cry again and you’ll have one less leg to deal with’.

“Bye, Mikes,” Gerard says and Frank nods too as he leaves.

“So,” Frank begins, “Are you breaking up with me?”

Gerard genuinely looks confused and a lot hurt as well and Frank wants to punch himself in the face for making Gerard look like that. “No of course not, are you?”

“No,” Frank says.

“Then why would you think I was?”

“Because,” Frank whines, then stops himself to think where to actually begin. “You haven’t spoken to me all week and you haven’t kissed me and I’ve barely seen you and when I do, you’re always wearing fucking plaid skirts. Oh and another thing, you didn’t come to the botanical gardens with me!”

“What botanical gardens?”

“Oh fuck never mind, it isn’t about the botanical gardens! Why are you ignoring me and wearing skirts?”

“Do you not like the skirts?” Gerard looks really shy now, which is totally uncommon for Gerard because usually if he decides to do something he isn’t put of by other people’s opinions.

“No, I mean- Yes I do, they’re hot as fuck, you’re hot as fuck,” Frank says stepping forward to take Gerard’s hand in his.

“Really?”

“Of course, have you seen your ass?”

“Maybe,” Gerard blushes.

“Why have you been ignoring me then?” Frank asks lifting Gerard’s hand to his mouth, pressing a light kiss to the palm and one on each of the finger tips.

Gerard sighs and looks embarrassed, “Ok, I’ll tell you but you’re gonna think I’m stupid or something. I started...making the skirts because you bought me that thing a while ago and it said plaid was in and I thought you might like them. Plus they looked really fun to do and cute and—“

Frank interrupts, “Wait, wait, back up. When you say that thing, you mean that magazine?” Gerard nods and Frank laughs, “Seriously you give a guy one issue of ‘Vogue’ and suddenly he thinks he’s Vivienne Westwood,” he mutters.

“Whatever Frank, let’s not get into what _you_ think _you_ can do because _you_ read it in ‘Rock Sound’ or something. The point is, I got into it. And _then_ I saw this article in ‘Cosmo’ about like, ignoring your boyfriend to make him want you more or something and well, I tried it out...” he trails off and Frank doesn’t know whether to laugh or to cry.

“So, what you’re telling me is that you ignored me and made me believe you were going to leave me for some high-flying fashion career because of something you read in ‘ _Cosmo’._ I don’t get you sometimes,” Frank says shaking his head whilst still actually trying to grasp what Gerard just said.

“Well it worked didn’t it?” Gerard asks looking offended at Frank dissing his research resources.

“Well of course it fucking worked but like, I already want you so much, why would you need to make me suffer?” Frank cries, throwing his hands around a little for added emphasis. It’s true; he thinks about Gerard all the time and not because he loves getting shit from Bob for not doing his work but because he wants to think about Gerard and he loves thinking about him. When he started dating dudes, he never meant to sound like such a girl when it came to the whole love deal. But then again he never thought he wouldn’t mind living with someone who hadn’t showered in the past week until he met Gerard. Gerard changed his mind about a lot of things if he’s completely honest which is probably why he freaks out so much when Gerard looks like he can live without him. It scares him because he cannot and will not ever attempt to live without Gerard.

“You do?” Gerard says all wide eyes and innocent, like he genuinely doesn’t believe Frank would crawl over broken glass just to give him a cup of coffee because he’s two seconds away from drinking the paint water. _Again_.

“When was the last time someone called you an idiot?” Frank asks grabbing hold of Gerard’s hand again.

“Mikey told me just before you got here – I thought you were leaving,” Frank knows there’s a me hidden behind the sentence, knows it because it’s just what he would do.

“Well, you ought to listen to him, he’s a wise old man,” Frank laughs, pulling Gerard into a tight hug.

“I’m older than him,” Gerard says resting his chin on the top of Frank’s head, because Frank’s just _that_ short.

Frank pulls back to look at his face, “Yeah you are, but you’re not as wise.” He leans up and presses a firm kiss to Gerard’s lips sighing contentedly because he really missed this shit.

“You’re prettier though,” Frank kisses him again, “And I think you look much hotter in plaid skirts than him.” Frank stares for a moment before Gerard lunges down attacking Frank’s mouth hungrily. He wraps his arm around Frank bringing him in close and licking at Frank’s lips. Frank takes the hint and opens his mouth for Gerard’s tongue.

Frank moans because he cannot get over how much he’s missed this. He can feel Gerard all over him, all the way down his legs and in the tips of his fingers which are knotted in Gerard’s shirt. He paws his way up Gerard’s back, hanging onto his shoulders trying to climb Gerard like a fucking tree. He just wants to get closer. He wants to push himself under Gerard’s skin and kiss him with everything he’s got left. Gerard gets it though, he can be pretty smart when Frank needs him to be, and tucks his hands under Frank’s ass so he can hoist him up and back him against the nearest wall and continue kissing the air out of Frank’s lungs. He breaks away and catches Frank’s lip between his teeth and tugs it out. Frank inhales sharply and brings one hand to twist his fingers in the hairs at the bottom of his neck. Gerard continues nipping at the skin on Frank’s jaw, smoothing over each bite mark with his tongue. Frank knows he’s gonna have a serious amount of hickeys and manages to be thankful for a moment he doesn’t have work tomorrow before he’s distracted by Gerard’s tongue tracing the scorpion on his neck.

“Mm fuck, Gee?” Frank rasps feeling his eyes flutter shut as Gerard sucks on his collarbone.

“Mm?” Gerard hums and Frank shivers feeling the vibrations burn his skin. He feels dizzy; his every thought consumed with Gerard and his mouth and his tongue and fuck, his skirts.

“Would you—Will you...Fuck, stop for a sec,” Gerard looks up, all wide-eyed and flushed. “Can you...I mean, would you wear one of those fucking skirts?” Frank stutters, like he should be embarrassed asking his boyfriend to wear brightly coloured plaid skirts whilst they have sex.

Gerard smirks and lets go of Frank’s ass and hurries to his studio leaving Frank all hot and hard and practically _dying_.

He manages to straighten himself out enough to shuffle over to their room, slipping his shirt off as he goes. He perches carefully on the end of the bed spreading his legs wide and reaches a hand down to palm himself over his jeans. He groans and leans his head back.

“Starting without me, huh?”

Frank jumps and blushes looking up to see Gerard leaning on the door frame hip cocked and arms crossed. His eyes stray down and fix on the black and grey skirt flicking out from Gerard’s waist. His legs are pale and smooth and Frank’s practically drooling at the sight. His mind is awash with desire and he seriously doesn’t think he can take this any longer.

“C’mere,” he says sliding further back on the bed. Gerard’s very careful to sway his hips as he walks before stopping short and dropping to his knees at Frank’s feet. Gerard’s hands immediately jump to his belt and he pops it open tugging them down as quick as possible. Frank tries his best to be helpful, after all he is finally – fucking _finally_ – gonna get to feel Gerard’s legs. Together they manage to get them off so Frank’s sat on the bed without a trace of clothing near his body and Gerard’s mouth trailing wet kisses up from his kneecap.

He kisses the seam of Frank’s thigh nosing at the base of Frank’s cock and looks up at him from under his lashes before sinking all the way down. Frank can actually feel his throat relax as his dick slides in. It’s obscene really, Gerard on his knees, cheeks hollowed and mouth stretched wide and Frank’s the one doing it. But, fuck, it feels good. Gerard’s mouth is wet and hot and he’s sucking at Frank like he’s getting paid for this.

“Fuck, Gerard,” Frank moans winding his fingers into Gerard’s hair and tugging at it. Frank feels the vibrations as Gerard makes some guttural noise in the back of his throat before pulling off trailing spit down his chin to Frank’s dick. Frank whines at the loss but Gerard cuts him short.

“Want to ride you, Frankie. I gotta- I need you- need it to hurt,” he pants, like he’s the one who was just getting his dick sucked. Frank nearly chokes on his own tongue and nods frantically. He reaches behind him to grab a condom but Gerard grabs his hand.

“No,” he says confidently, “I want to feel you.” Frank doesn’t ask him if he’s sure. It’s his decision and Gerard knows how to make them. He wouldn’t have asked if he wasn’t sure.

Gerard stands up pulling his top off, making no move to remove the skirt, before straddling Frank’s lap. Frank grips his hips to steady him but Gerard’s not waiting around. He lines himself up then sits. And just like that, he’s rocking his hips forward, fucking himself on the head of Frank’s cock.

Frank groans, restraining himself so he doesn’t just snap upwards into the tight heat. Gerard looks down at him with half-closed eyes and smiles lazily. There’s a spark of something Frank can’t quite work out in his eyes right before he tips his head back.

“Do it, Frank.” And Frank doesn’t need telling twice. He thrusts upwards revelling in the sound of his hips slapping against Gerard’s ass.

“Fucking Christ,” Frank says right before he looses it as Gerard lifts up and slams back down again. Gerard suddenly has become the most energetic person ever, fucking himself with so much vigour Frank would be worn out if there wasn’t an ass around his dick. It’s fucking glorious. He’s missed this so much and not just the actual fucking but the intimacy he feels when they’re fucking. It’s the best feeling in the world and Frank’s so glad he bought Gerard that magazine. Then he remembers and slides his hands down the backs of Gerard’s smooth thighs.

“Fuck...so mother fucking hot,” he breathes and Gerard chuckles.

Frank tucks his hands under the folds of Gerard’s skirt to slide his palms across his ass. Gerard’s twisting around and making all kinds of sharp sweet noises that let him know he’s found what he’s looking for. He slams back once more and Frank feels his stomach tighten.

“Jesus, Frank you look so fucked out,” Gerard says leaning over and stroking his fingers down Frank’s chest.

“Me? Gee, baby have you seen yourself right now?”

“No, fuck, I’m too busy looking at you.” Frank knows now’s not the time to get emotional about something like that but that’s the whole reason he loves Gerard. He says what he thinks, when he thinks it, whether it seems appropriate or not. It undoes Frank every time, and now is no exception. He moans long and drawn out. “God, I fucking love you,” he cries as he comes. It’s amazing and perfect and Gerard smiles down at him the whole time, his hair falling in front of his face.

Then Gerard lifts up and kneels above Frank’s chest wrapping his hand around himself stroking quickly. Frank tries his best to catch his breath but Gerard looks so fucking good.

“Come on me, please,” he manages to choke out right before Gerard cries out, throwing his head back as he obliges Frank. He holds himself up for about two seconds before dropping onto the bed next to him.

“I love you too.” Frank smiles to himself leaning over to kiss Gerard sweetly and push his sweaty hair out his face. They lie like that for a while before Frank gives in and goes to get a wash cloth to clean the dried come off his stomach.

Gerard’s asleep _under the covers_ still unclean when he gets back. Frank sighs, prepared to shout him out for it tomorrow. He kisses the top of his head before sliding behind Gerard where he fits. Gerard’s not leaving him. Frank fits with him.

 

They finally make it to the botanical gardens the next day but it’s nowhere near as beautiful as Gerard. Gerard tries to disagree so Frank kisses him to prove it.

 

 


End file.
